Smile
by Phira
Summary: Sometimes we all need breaks right? But despite all of that, breaks needs to be taken at the right time and place, if not we'll just explode, in a manner better than the 4th of July fireworks or worse than the nuclear bombings in Nagasaki and Hiroshima.


SMILE [ONESHOT]

Rating: PG-Rating [really the swear words makes the fic have a higher rating =_=]

Pairing/s: Mainly UsUk and Franada with mentions of EngJap [possible] and FrUk [I can't resist]

Warnings: Brotherly love and Best Friend love [ff-- lets all take a break a bit from R-Ratings this X-mas season 'kay?], smoking!America [literally], some language errors. ;;;;

Summary:  
Sometimes we all need breaks right? But despite all of that, breaks needs to be taken at the right time and place, if not we'll just explode, in a manner better than the 4th of July fireworks or worse than the nuclear bombings in Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

A/N: I know, I know. I should work on Tangled Web and [Hollow]. Oh c'mon! Gimme a break! I wanna make a cute Christmas fic for my OTP and for a good friend before I go seriously on my two long fics. Besides, college is starting to take a toll on me and this fic was written on a whim and wasn't planned on. Oh, and this fic are for the people who have been patient with me and stuck with me in my bouts of...you know whats and for the people whom I wish to reach out to without stumbling.

----

"Eh! Arthur! You're such a workaholic old geezer!" a certain American exclaimed as he drank his usual cup of coffee as he looked on the swarmed and stressed looking British man. Now, now, before we see what happens to the next,let's rewind things for bit shall we?

Arthur Kirkland, the representative of England, more known as the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, was running through his usual pile of paperwork as always, which somehow grew in number as the days passed by, when he was rudely interrupted. He can't blame it, aside from the recession and stock exchange problems, he had various issues within the government and people themselves so technically he's swarmed. At that point in time, just as he was trying to finish reading a report about what so far was investigated for the Bogside Massacre, an incident during the 30th of January 1972 [due to his brother Ireland's constant follow pestering of following up the issue], he had to be cut short by a certain blonde who rushed in to his office brandishing a pamphlet in one hand the other busy holding his everyday cup of coffee, a reliever from the usual hamburgers he carries around. Looking up from his material, he frowned openly at the American and stated, "Don't you ever knock you git?"

"Geez Arthur, lighten up will you. I mean, its December! Christmas! Snow! Presents! Babes! Oh wait that's for summer but still babes count! Especially when they in the mall flirting their sweet little asses out. Anyway, shouldn't you be enjoying just a little bit of the sights?" Alfred F. Jones, more known as the United States of America, said waving the pamphlet hand lazily, and for emphasis.

"And shouldn't you be busy meddling with your own affairs like, oh I don't know, finding a way to help with the bloody recession you caused?" the Brit spat back with a hiss. Once again, you can't blame him. The stress was clearly visible from the clear darkened circles under Arthur's emerald eyes to the thinning look on his face [anymore thinner and he'll look like a twig]. The statement alone was good enough to make the embodiment of the American nation flinch a bit but he didn't let that get to his nerve.

Heroes don't lose control of their temper that easily, y'know.

"Eh! Arthur, you're such a workaholic old geezer!" Alfred scoffed, taking a sip from the coffee-filled styrofoam cup in his hand.

SNAP.

"Shut your trap! Now hurry up and tell me what you need to say. As you can see I'm busy."

Alfred heaved a sigh yet the goofy grin remained on his boyish features as he replied, "Fine, fine." Moving nearer towards the British nation, he brandished the pamphlet that he held in his hand in an excited manner, "Look! Look! The Burger World just a few blocks from here had just opened! And I've got two free passes for the grand opening tonight!" The pamphlet was brandished even closer to the face of the Brit, to the point that Arthur could smell the paper and ink printed on the item.

SNAP.

SNAP.

The Briton looked at the American nation, his hand that was gripping his trusty fountain pen in an extremely tight manner, was shaking badly and somehow the pen itself was starting to bend, nearly to the verge of snapping in half like the Titanic. "You...disturbed me just so...you can flap that...that thing that resembles shite?!" Arthur growled dangerously at his former charge, still unconsciously bending his fountain pen. His emerald eyes were darkening in a manner that America didn't like to see. He rarely so the British representative this mad and somehow, it scared him. Placing the cup of coffee on the table slowly and carefully, he raised his hands in defense and was gesturing for the Brit to at least calm himself "W-woah Iggs! Let's just calm down. Y'know. Breathe in. Breath out." in which he demonstrated by breathing in and out slowly.

SNAP.

SNAP.

SNAP.

That was the end of Arthur's patience. Suddenly slamming him hands down on his desk, startling the American at the suddenly action, the Brit glared at Alfred, irritation and frustration clear in his green orbs, his breath was a hiss and his face was flustered in anger. The cup of coffee was now spilt on the rug due to the tremor caused by Arthur's actions. The scent of the liquid and the new mess on the usually tidy rug somehow made things worse.

"A-arthu-?" Alfred began, a bit startled and nervous on how angry the Englishman looked. Somehow he felt that he should be SLOWLY backing out right about-

"You sod! Get out! Find someone else to watch you gobble down cholesterol loaded junk!"

...now.

"...."

That somehow also crossed the line for the American. He was used to having Arthur insult his food and such but the reason that he himself was mad was something else.

Frowning down on the Brit, he shoved the piece of paper to the inside of his pants' pocket as he replied in a disappointed manner, "Fine! I'll go take Matthew, Kiku and France with me then! Sorry for ruining your concentration your royal fuckness!" Satisfied on taken back expression on the Brit's face, he turned his back on Arthur and made his way to the door. As his hand was on the brass doorknob, he stopped as he heard Arthur hastily called out to him,"A-alfred...I'm sorry." Alfred could only look back at Arthur and reply, "Oh sure now you apologize. Really Arthur, I'll do you a favor be extremely frank at you. Sure, I act so childish at times but then again, I do this so that I could at least see you smile, even a small smile, once in a while. So much for trying to cheer you up with a little holiday cheer." he said in a blunt manner in which he also added, "Oh and don't bother apologizing. I'm not in the mood for forgive and forget." just as Arthur's mouth opened to apologize. "Well, see you tomorrow Arthur. There's a meeting about what should we do for the holidays at nine o lock tomorrow." and Alfred left with a small wave, a distraught-looking and guilty-faced Arthur.

"Alfred... What have I done?"

----

The following days found the nations busier than usual due to the Christmas holidays that were fast-approaching. Tino was mostly flitting in and out of the UN building due to his duties as Santa Clause. Peter, of course, tailed his mother around demanding the an array of robots, whose names are impossible to pronounce, to be given to him on Christmas Day, much to Finnish's chagrin and stress. In the end, his father threatened a month-long grounding to the micro-nation, to the relief of not only his wife but to the other nations as well, who were annoyed and bothered by the racket Peter caused. However, despite all of that Kiku, Matthew and Francis were a bit worried on how the usually loud Alfred was silent this year and more concerned on the sudden chill in Arthur's personality. They also observed that whenever those two would meet at the corridor, none would even give the other the usually bicker or a second glance nor even a small smile of recognition. Worse, in meetings, the lack of the usual bickering between the two appalled them as well as fact that whenever it their respective turn to talk, both would act as if the other was not there. There were times that Arthur would even excuse himself and be gone to the "bathroom" for long periods of time or until Alfred was finished talking.

"Do you think something happened to them?" Matthew mused during on one of their coffee breaks as he sipped on a delicious mocha frappé, in which some froth sticking to him lip in which a chuckling Francis wiped the froth away with his sly tongue, much to the Canadian's mixed delight and dismay and the Japanese man's giggle fit of amusement. "I don't know mon amour." Francis replied with an arm around his lover's shoulders. It was already known that Francis and Matthew were together and were going headstrong in their relationship for almost a year now.

"Then again I think I have an idea on why those two are so indifferent with each other lately." Kiku piped up as he sipped his can of oolong tea. Francis raised a brow in a flamboyant manner, his interest sparked. On how the Japanese nation investigates this remains a mystery to him. Matthew on the other hand leaned on the table closer, wanting to know on how much Kiku knows. "Please tell me. I think I might know if you tell me yours." Setting down his can, Kiku's expression was rather in between thoughtful and serious. But then again his concern for his bestfriend, Arthur, was more visible. "I do remember Alfred-san going inside Arthur-kun's office the other day holding that pamphlet for that new burger stand down the road. If I do remember correctly, he mentioned that he wanted to bring some holiday cheer to Arthur-san by bringing him there." That certainly was a brow-raiser for Francis, "But then again, during that time wasn't Arthur on a bad bout of stress, non? I mean, if you took a very good look at the poor man he seemed like he was on the verge of collapse." Matthew and Kiku nodded in agreement, "True, true." the Asian nation replied.

"Then again..." Matthew began as he watched Alfred stared at the burger-less food counter right across the room, "Alfred kept mentioning about Arthur being unable to smile more often these past month and also he felt bad for this year's 4th of July celebration."

"Well he did go overboard fireworks and other odd...stuff. The whole tirade clearly upset Arthur-san." Kiku pointed out in which the two blondes nodded in agreement. "But still, I don't know if Arthur-san notices on how much effort Alfred-san has exerted on all of this."

Francis snorted in laughter, "Honhonhon knowing that Brit, he would have realized it a second tooo late."

At the point in time, call it timing, Arthur suddenly waltzed in to the cafeteria hoping to grab a cup his favorite Earl Gray before he continued on with his work. As the three nations watched him, they seemed to have noticed how gaunt he looked and how red his eyes seemed to be at that moment.

Arthur was in a complete mess.

The usually appropriately dressed gentlemen looked like he was mauled by angry cats [which by the way in not Hercules' fault! nor Sadiq's. and certainly not Ivan, that cute man.]. His hair was in complete disarray, in which one may mistake it for a bird's nest. His supposedly well kept suit was a wee bit loopsided and the tails of his button-up shirt are tucked out, much to Francis' surprise, as he knows the Brit well. His usually sharp emerald-hued eyes were bloodshot and were apparent signs of crying for hours and hours and lack of sleep. All in all...

"He looks like a zombie." Francis commented in which earned him a nice elbowing from the Canadian wrapped up in his arm.

"Francis!"

"What mon chér? I didn't say anything wrong! I just said that he looked like a-"

"Looked like what, you bloody frog?" a sharp voice intoned from their side in which startled the Frenchman and Canadian and sent nervous jitters up the Japanese man's spine.

"A-arthur!"

"Arthur-san!"

The Brit glared down at them with his bloodshot emerald eyes, a cup of well-made Earl Gray [as expected from the Brit, Matthew thought] and a plate of failed!muffins, er, scones [oh good lord no, thought Francis]in his hands in a silent manner but then again plopped down beside the Japanese man and placed the things at hand on the table gently before laying his head down in his hands, sobbing. Kiku, Matthew and Francis exchanges looks, before going in near their companion with Kiku, being the nearest of them, placing a comforting hand over the shaking shoulders of the Englishman. "Arthur..."

"Goddammit Kiku. I think I blew it." Arthur hiccuped almost inaudibly, his head still down in his arms. "Alfred must hate me now. I know it." The three men looked at each with worried looks. At least their worries were confirmed by one of those concerned.

"Arthur I don't think-" the black-haired Asian began but Francis was quicker, "Non Anglettere, its not your fault. Well partly yes, but that's not the point." the Frenchman said, quickly adding the latter part as a whimpers of desolation emerged from the Englishman as to avoid another elbow jab from his lover. "The point is, Amerique's timing of asking you out was a rather bad timing on his part. We don't blame you for being stressed especially in this part of the season. Merd , we all are stressed in fact." Even if he and Arthur would always bicker and fight 99.99 percent of all the time, Francis still cared for the person he regarded as a little brother, and a former lover. Matthew knew that he and Arthur had a relationship before [and it did not involve signing calendars, mind you] but it would seem that Arthur indeed has eyes for another and with that dissolved their relationship. They're good friends now even if they still bicker.

...and bicker.

Francis had moved on and somehow he felt that he owes the British man due to the fact that Arthur helped him reaize his feelings for his former colony. As Francis' eyes looked to gaze at Matthew's, he smiled and thought that it was about time that he got in par with the Brit. Besides it was time he repayed the favor. Clapping a hand over at the Brit's shoulder's in a jovial manner, the Frenchamn continued, "So Angleterre, its about time we helped you in your dilema!"Kiku looked at Francis as though he assumed that the Frenchman was suddenly possessed by the ghost of whatever Christmas spirit, while Matthew was agape on what Francis had just said and then the two chorused, "What?!" Whatever Francis was doing has entirely have none of their consent or their opinion.

Arthur looked up from his arms, his eyes although more bloodshot than ever were unable to contain the surprise within them, "W-what?" Francis grinned down on the British man, "Ok the plan is like this..."

Matthew could only smile approvingly, holding Kumajirou close to his small frame, apparently proud and happy at his lover. The boy could feel his heart beating fast as if it could explode at any moment from the feelings he was experiencing towards Francis. Kiku on the other hand nodded in agreement all the while holding Arthur's hand and giving it a few squeezes of reassurance every time the Brit would whine on how it may not work.

----

The next day...

"Alfred...?"

Alfred, who was walking away from his office and was about to head towards the smoking area, whipped around to see the Englishman, face aflushed but wasn't giving at least one eye contact. He was somehow hiding something within his coat's pocket but that didn't bother Al. What bothered him were the ones at the back. Behind him were Kiku, Francis and Matthew, looking as if they were this guy's cheering squad/random passersby who happened to be caught in corridor traffic. Sighing the sandy-blonde looked down on the Brit with a small but clear frown on his boyish face. "What is it this time Iggy? Make it fast, I'm...a bit busy today."

'Yeah right..." the three nations behind the English man thought in unison, 'You're probably headed to the smoking area to chain smoke again.' Apparently, chain smoking became a habit of Al's ever since the bombing on 2001, so whenever he would gt stressed or in dire need of relaxation, he would turn to the wonders of nicotine. The four concerned had been trying to pry him off the addiction but to no avail. Kiku, at that moment took mental note that he should really shove the American to smoking rehab or have him prescribed with nicotine patches to get him off the addiction. "I-it will only take a second you git!" Arthur blurted, shaking Kiku out of his thoughts.

"Alright then..."

Somehow the indifferent tone coming from his own brother seemed to set off the alarm bells at the back of the Canadian's mind. Taking Francis' hand, which startled the Frenchman for a bit, and squeezing it tightly, Matthew hoped that none will go wrong.

Arthur looked at the American and swallowed a whole lot of his pride before he he said, "Al, I-I'm sorry. Um...I...well, is the offer still open?" Arthur mentally face palmed himself on how lamed that sounded. Oh well what's out was out and all he ahd to do was wait.

A long silence followed the statement which somehow sent shivers up Arthur's spine. Alfred was staring at him, but with a sensation he can't brush off. A sensation that wasn't the best feeling one would feel nor would want to feel at all. It felt like being doused with cold water in a sudden manner behind your back even if you asked for warm bath water. To make this worse, there were ice cubes in that water. He wasn't liking on how the whole thing was turning up at all. Matthew noticed the chill that seemed to creep into Alfred's eye, Kiku too but before they could do anything to break the ice, Alfred spoke up, "...Fuck Arthur, are you this desperate? or are you this dense?" he asked in a rather harsh tone that wasn't his. "Sure I would love to accept but as you know I'm busy like you are. I don't wanna hang out and eat on "CHOLESTEROL LOADED JUNK" with the guy in whom originally turned the offer down. Sorry Arthur but you had your chance." he emphasized the quoted words in a slightly raised and mocking tone as he added the latter bit before Arthur could add anything in his defense.

'Amerique is rather harsh today...' Francis realized as he stared at the whole scene helplessly while Matthew looked as if he too was doused with cold water, mouth agape. Kiku was almost the same except for the fact that his mouth wasn't open but is hands which were curled into fists were shaking.

"Now if you will excuse me, I have some work to do." and with that Alfred turned his hell and went along his way, a frown plastered on his features.

As Alfred was out of earshot, Kiku placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, who was currently staring at the space where Al previously stood on. Matthew let go of the Frenchman's hand to run infront of Arthur, a dismayed look on his face. "A-arthur! Don't worry! I'll go talk some sense into him! Ok? Ok?" the look on the blonde Englishman's face was a worrying him. Looking at the Frenchman behind the Englishman, he gave a small nod and the two sped off to confront the American, leaving the Japanese man to console the near-to-tears Brit.

"Arthur-san?"

The blonde Brit looked at his best friend, trying his best to actually hide his tears but eventually, little by little the salty drops began to leak from the once brilliant eyes. "I give up Kiku..."

"Arthur-san..."

Before the Japanese could say anything else, the Briton was already storming out of the building unable to hide the new flow of tears that were falling down his cheeks.

---

Alfred exhaled his 5th breath of smoke. The scent of the incinerated nicotine filling his nostrils and lungs. Closing his eyes, he reveled in the comfort of the drugged stick. It was his few vices in his god dammed immortal life. Hey, them nations are still subject to what humans call to stress. The burning sensation in his lungs gave him warmth from the cold December air that circulated around him. The smoke was a like a security blanket, giving him temporary comfort from the guilty feeling he was having right now. Once the thin, gentle yet pungent mist dispersed into the atmosphere, he shakily took another suck from the stick, taking another breath of smoke in just seconds.

"As expected of you Amerique..." came a voice from the glass door of the smoking area. Alfred's bright blue eyes looked to his side just in time to see his brother and his French lover enter the area. A scowl then crept into his features as he looked away from the pair. "I see you found me."

"It wasn't much of a hard thing to ponder on, Al."

A cold chuckle emerged from the American. "Is that so?" Flicking away the spent cigarette stub into the nearest trash can, Alfred reached within his bomber jacket's pocket to grab the opened packet of Malboro. And as he was reaching in to grab another stick, Matthew slapped the packet away from his hand. "Dammit Al! Stop being an ass!"

The American threw a nasty look on his brother before he reached down to grab the knocked-away packet. "What if I want to be an a-"

"He was feeling guilty about the other day!"

Alfred threw another nasty look at Matthew as he brushed the dirt away from his beloved cigarettes. Just the memory of that event was enough to make him ever so pissed. "Stop poking your nose into matters that don't even calls for you attention Matt. Seriously, the more you hang out with that faggot..." he wagged a finger at the offended Frenchman, "... you become more and more like him. Jeezus!"

And his prize for saying that?

A good ol' punch in the face from the angered Canadian himself. That was certainly the shocker of the year. Alfred looked at his brother with a surprised look in his face. He hadn't seen Matthew this pissed and he knew very well that the boy absolutely don't hit someone, in which the punch was totally out of the boy's nature. The worst he got before was a three-hour rant from the Canadian. "M-matt?"

"Mathieu..." Francis murmured surprised at his lover's sudden outburst. He certainly wasn't expecting this kind of outburst especially from the usually gentle and soft-spoken Canadian. Matthew shook the hand that stung from the punch. He wasn't the kind to actually punch someone but his ass of a brother was really asking for one so bad right now. "Well? I hope that punch knocked some sense into you Al..." Matthew snarled, a trait not so commonly seen. "Arthur was trying to apologize and it bothered him the whole week! If you were so keen at even taking a look on him, he wasn't even able to have a good night's rest! And he's always crying until his eyes hurt, goddammit! There?! Are you happy?!" Matt's voice was raising at every syllable with every intention of making guilt pierce the American down to his bones. It looks like it worked because on the shocked expression that was plastered on Alfred's face. "Arthur..." he mumbled, staring at the fallen packet of cigarettes and the sticks that were lying in a discarded manner on his feet. "...I-I... I don't know what to do now."

"You should go apologize NOW." Francis finished for him, an arm around the Canadian in an overprotective, yet proud manner. "Arthur cannot wait forever, non?"

"Y-yes, yes. i'll go do that now..." The American hastily replied as be made a bee-line for the door. He paused as he looked back at the two who were watching him leave and said, "I'm sorry for saying those things at you Francis..."

"It's alright Amerique , I understand. Now run along now. Anglettere awaits."

"Ahh yeah. And...thank you."

And he was off. Matthew and Francis stood their, feeling that their part of the mission accomplished. Matthew looked at his lover, who in turn was smiling down on him. "What?" Francis gently cupped the younger nation's chin and brought him up for a kiss. "Mathieu... I need to know more about you... will you let me?" The younger nation smiled softly at his lover and returned the chaste kiss, "I don't see the harm on doing that, Francis..."

---

His breath was up in hitches.

Where the fuck is that damned Brit?!

Alfred looked at the obvious places that the Brit would go to whenever he got depressed. First he checked into the blonde's office, then called the Brit's apartment only to be greeted by the answering machine, then he figured that he checked the pubs that the Brit would always frequent and when he wasn't found scoured every McDonald's restaurant within the perimeter.

"Dammit Arthur, where the fuck are you?" the American murmured as he walked down the pavement turning on a corner to the pedestrian leading to the nearby park. It was nightfall and snow was falling gently but in a cold manner for hours now, dampening the nation's spirit. His blonde hair was gathering small hails of snow, as to his shoulder but Alfred didn't bother giving a hoot. He planned on getting a wiff of smoke in the park before restarting his search. As he did so his blue eyes caught sight of a familiar figure seated on one of the steel-framed wooden park benches lined outside of the park's perimeter. It was--

"Arthur!" he called out unable to keep it for himself as he began a fast stride towards the man. Arthur looked up with from his daze with reddened emerald eyes, the snow which were in small mounds on his head and shoulders disturbed and fell down, ignored. "L-leave me alone!" he rasped as he quickly got up while the other was approaching on him fast. Dropping the small package that he kept within his coat, the object that he was clearly hiding from earlier, and ran away. Arthur's mind was screaming, 'What the bloody fuck are you doing England?! Have you gone mad?! Why are you running away when you can defend yourself infront of that bloody oaf!', but his body begged to differ. If he was a computer program and had to be give the fight or flight command prompt, he had just selected the flight prompt.

"B-but Arthur I-!"

"I said leave me alone you bloody git!"

"W-wait! Arthur lo-!"

Alfred wasn't given a chance to finish his sentence.

The next set of events was too fast for him and they all seemed like a blurred dream. At one moment, he saw the tear-stricken and hurt look on the Briton's face and the next thing he saw was a speeding, drunk driver colliding with the Brit's lithe frame. He saw Arthur's body bend in ways one did not think possible before the man's head hit the car's windshield with a very loud crash, followed by his body, causing an ugly crack on the windshield. Next, Arthur was bounced due to the force impact to the side of the car, away from the American's view.

It would have seemed as if time stopped.

Alfred stared in a horrified manner at the incident, aware of the blood that was starting to spread throughout the asphalted road. The noises, gasps, screams and calls for an ambulance were dulled out. This is certainly wasn't happening. Was this his karma? Alfred didn't believe in that mumbo jumbo shit but this...this wasn't fair. Arthur suffered too much and this is like what? His happy ending?!

"ARTHUR!!!!!"

He won't be able to see that smile after all.

---

a/n: *hides in Dambolis* I sense an angry mob


End file.
